PEMDAS
by SoloShot
Summary: Mizuko Watanabe hasn't got a lot going for her. Unemployed, isolated, and largely ignored she's simply one more interchangeable cog in the Machinery of City Z; until an encounter with a hero no one has heard of drastically changes the course of her life.
1. Chapter 1

City Z was kind of a shithole, no really Mizuko was pretty sure people from other cities stopped by just to take a dump in the gutters and generally make a nuisance of themselves before hightailing it right back out of the city limits. Being on the hind end of semi-regular mass destruction kind of had a way of making the place a little less than desirable to live in. Sure, the city had been trucking along as best as it could for the last several years but the whole "giant spaceship" incident which was preceded by the "giant meteor mess" had kind of killed what little allure it had in the first place. Hard to enjoy sweeping vistas and massive chrome skyscrapers when they kept getting destroyed.

The last mass exodus had been kind of breathtaking to watch if she wanted to be honest, it had looked exactly like every post-apocalyptic manly whinge fest that had been hitting movie theaters for the last twenty some odd years. Complete with abandoned cars, random violence, and whiny manlets et all. Usually things were a bit more orderly. Some people even had "Monster Disaster" insurance that let them just up and move. When the aliens had fried the HQ of the biggest insurance building things had gone bonkers. It had built more like a fortress than an office building with Gatling guns, a team of Corp Espers, and private security that gave a very "probably killed people before so don't test us" kind of vibe. When it had gone down in smoke things had gotten, dicey.

So anyway- all the well-meaning (i.e:WEALTHY) citizens had basically written the whole place off and gotten the hell out of dodge; everyone else just got stuck.Metaphor for life huh?

Mizuko was one of those poor unfortunates who had neither the money to flee in style or the inclination to pick her way through the ever-increasing number of monsters that liked to hunt around the ringed walls of the city to try and get away on foot. She had been born in the city and she might as well die in it too. At least when she croaked it in some monster attack her aunt might get a nice insurance check, _if_ they ever identified the body. With the way her luck usually ran she'd probably get vaporized and be declared missing (the insurance companies' favorite way of not having to pay out to grieving family) instead. And hey, at least if she got pancaked or something, she could say her last act on earth was being some kind of morbid art project. Art was fun like that; everything was art if you just let it be. Even the messy remnants of a nasty death.

Not that she spent much of her free time actively planning around her eventual death. It didn't do well to dwell on those sorts of things, it tended to drive people crazy and crazy people turned into monsters.Maybe? The whole "monster" thing seemed very subjective and didn't make a lot of sense to her. It happened, sometimes. Just like sometimes people got powers or sometimes people were born espers. There were whole areas of academics focused on that topic and not a single one of them agreed with each other on basically anything other than "sometimes it happens spontaneously and we have no idea why". Fun.

What it meant in the more micro sense was that anyone was at risk of popping off and getting evil monster powers basically at any moment. Once her yoga instructor in college had turned into some kind of bendy elastic man who strangled women who rejected him. Which was not very namaste of him- at all. So Mizuko did her best to let things go because getting hyper focused on shit that bothered you was seem to be surefire way of exploding in either the literal or metaphorical sense.

So, the city was ass and things were kind of awful but that didn't really stop anyone from living. People still existed, businesses still ran, kids went to school, and life just kept going. Mizuko, she just kept going too, and today was no different.

It was grocery day, which meant an hour long trek out of Slumtown and to the grocery store across town that inexplicably managed to remain both open and mostly undamaged despite being only a fifteen-minute walk away from the ghost town where it seemed like ninety percent of the monsters emerged these days. _Maybe the owners an esper and just predicted when things are goging to happen?_ She thought unwrapping the paper from around the lollipop she had filched from the clinic candy bowl. Sure, it was labeled "For Kids Only!" but in her opinion if you were stupid enough to put the bowl in easy reach of the front door, an amateur mistake, you deserved to lose a few candies.

Popping the candy into her mouth she clambered unsteadily up the side of yet another crater.This side of town had been a mix of apartments and small businesses but at the moment it was just a lot of rubble and not a lot of people. There had been a big purple goo thing sluggishly trying to piece itself together in the bottom of this last crater but she'd just kind of skirted around it and did her best to ignore the stench. Hero's didn't care for cleanup and City Z wasn't exactly at the top of anyone's list for emergency relief funds. For all she knew the monster would be back up and running by the time she finished grocery shopping and be right back to murder.

_Huhm_, she mused sucking lightly (cherry flavor, mediocre), _maybe I should pick a different route home. Probably best to just avoid the possibility, mama ain't tryin to die today._Pausing for a moment at the crest of the crater she cautiously peered over the side tilting her head this way and that, expsoing as little of her body as possible in the off chance something was going down. The street was still mostly intact and appeared deserted at the moment, which was a best-case scenario. Stopping for a second to glance behind her and wrinkle her nose at the blob which was very valiantly trying to sprout arms she pulled a face and turned to haul herself over the edge.

A pause to brush the concrete dust of her jacket and pants and then she was on her way again thumbs digging into the straps of her backpack. The grocery store was right around the corner from here and damn if today wasn't the semi-annual meat sale. She was going to buy so, so, so much off brand nearly expired meat today and oh how glorious would it be. Envy of Slumtown she would be.The Queen of the Sale! Tsarina of Deals!By the time she got to the turn she was skipping merrily, happy steaks and sausages dancing in her head like a Christmas special.

_Mmmm meat _she opined with a little dramatic twirl and hop as the front of the store came into sight _gift of the gods_.

The small grocery store was the lone survivor on the block, once it had been between two apartment buildings but those had long since fallen prey to the kind of property destruction that was now common. Its cheery yellow front plastered in brightly colored advertisements stood in stark contrast against the gunmetal grey sky and piles of debris which had been shoved off the sidewalk to allow access to the automatic doors. Not so long ago the roof had been taken off by something but it had been repaired relatively quickly and efficiently with thick sheets of corrugated metal. Frankly it looked pretty good for being within sight of the cordoned off ghost town, although you could still see bits of patching and soldering if you looked closely enough. Someone had taken the time to arrange a series of potted plants around the front as if a cheery bit of greenery could distract from the eeriness of the entire area.Mizuko didn't care, a deal was deal.Striding across the street and through the automatic doors she threw a quick salute to the lone cashier who was camped in the right most lane. It took guts to work out here and game recognizes game as it were. When she had first started shopping here there had been ten or maybe eleven employees, now she only regularly spotted three. He just raised an eyebrow back at her and continued checking his customer out; a polite older woman in a leopard print Mumu and what appeared to be platform sandals. Man, old people really had it good it was so unfair, if she lived to fifty, she was dying her hair yellow, renaming herself Daisy Chain, and only wearing eye searing floral prints just to offend The Youth(tm). The old woman was buying an entire box of peaches which was weird but who was she to judge.

Skirting around a few displays Mizuko headed back in the direction of nirvana, the deli counter. According to her watch the sale was supposed to start in t-minus three minutes, and there was already a crowd of people queuing to get to it. The deals at this store really were wicked good, partially because it was one of the only ways the ownership could get anyone to shop out here. People wouldn't be willing to almost die for a full priced ham but cut that sucker to 75% off and suddenly blood could be running in the streets and people would still show up. In fact last month when blood had actually be running through the streets they had cut the produce to 50% off plus BOGO and someone had stabbed a lady near the mangos. Mango lady had lived but the produce section had been wiped clean like the biblical locust swarms had made a blockbuster return. She was still kicking herself for missing that one but her arm had been broken and climbing through the rubble to get across town hadn't exactly been on her list of "things I really want to be doing right now". The store wasn't all that big but it was crowded, tall metal shelves leaned into almost too small isles; shelves groaning under the discounted off brand foodstuffs piled in haphazard order across them. Every time she came in the store seemed to have a slightly different layout and either they didn't have the same employee stock things twice or the person they did have just didn't care because the organization was laughable at best and non-existent at worst. Once she had found a shelf of shampoo inside the dry goods isle. Granted the shampoo had been "whole grain natural wheat shampoo" or something but; seriously? The staff might have been brave as hell but they were not playing with a full deck of cards. She took off down one of the isles at a slow jog.As could probably be predicted the isle leading towards the deli was currently covered over with people pushing and shoving in an attempted to get to the front of the line. She narrowed her eyes as she slowed taking in the competition warily. The people looked normal but this it was sale time, and war was here. Looks can and were deceiving, underestimating someone was the last thing she needed to do. Time to go and secure some meat even if it meant punting small children and expectant mothers out of the way.Reaching up she snagged the scrunchie off of her wrist with her teeth and began to pull her long dark hair into a bun, shouldering a gawker to the side with a swing of her backpack as she moved forward into the fray. Hair pulling was fair but it was also painful and really, she'd already lost a hunk of scalp to Aiko Tamura two years ago in a Black Friday brawl over an HD TV. It had taken months to stop looking like she'd been mauled by a particularly aggressive tiger last time, not a mistake to fall into twice. Not that, in the end, it wasn't worth it because the TV was amazing (right up until her the apartment had been destroyed in yet another flashy Hero vs Monster fight last year). Judging by the length of the line this time there would probably be something left by the time she got to the front, especially if she was willing to play fast and loose with her morals.

She might not get the best meat but you don't exactly have the choice of being overly picky. Food didn't keep for very long in Slumtown, either it got eaten or it got stolen by someone else to eat. Waste not want not. It wouldn't be the first or last time she had scrapped off some questionable looking mold from something before cooking. Needs be must and all that after all. Licking her lips she moved forward with a purpose, eyes locked right on the prize when someone practically teleported right in front of her. She rocked back on her heels startled by the rapid change in scenery. Mizuko was pretty sure the guy actually had teleported or something. Between one blink and the next a relatively tall very bald man in a ratty t-shirt and shorts had replaced the trio of teenagers who had been in front of her. Somewhere in the near distance the line seemed to have disintegrated into a shoving fight to get to the front. The sale must have just started. She blinked a few times in astonishment as the guy just started plowing forward into the crowd like a battering ram. Now Mizuko was not the kind of girl who turned away a mysterious gift from god and this bald man (very shiny, head very _very _shiny) was parting the sea of shoppers like a man on a mission. Whatever his facial expression was it must have been thunderous because people were turning to yell and then practically leaping out of the way. Someone was climbing the cereal shelf to her left as she hurried in the man's wake, far be it from her to get in his way when he was being so very useful at the moment. Let him terrify small children and send people running. Fewer people to compete with was always better. They made it to the counter in record time and Mizuko immediately abandoned the guy to elbow right up to display window and plaster herself up against it. Behind her people were bitching and moaning about line cutting, but they knew better than try and dislodge her. This was her spot and she was not going to lose it to any man, beast, or monster. Not to mention she'd earned it; the counter space was sacred. Starting a fight after you got up here was like spitting in the Pope's eye. You only did it if you wanted to be excommunicated, only in this case instead of not going to heaven you got kicked out of the store and your picture on the Wall of Shame near the checkout. She licked her lips as she waited impatiently for the apathetic employee behind the counter to get moving, it was meat time!"Oh." someone drawled to her left crowding into her personal space, "I went to the wrong side didn't I. The sale meat is over here." An elbow landed on her head squishing her down and out of the way blocking her line of sight to the prime steaks at the back of the deli counter. Grunting in indignation she twisted her face up with a snarl on her lips to lay into whoever had dared to try and skip the line (that she had totally also just skipped but again sales are WAR and no one apologize in wartime) only to squawk as her nose landed directly in what, judging by the color of the shirt, had to be very bald man's very smelly armpit."Ngh!" She said oh so intelligently."Oh sorry. Didn't notice you." Said bald man with absolutely no sympathy shoving her again with his elbow, "I'll be just a moment. Uh, can I get-" he turned back to the store employee who was blinking across the stuffed wiener section like a particularly surly owl.Mizuko lifted her fingers palms clasped together index and pointer fingers stiffened like spears and jabbed viciously into baldy's unprotected armpit. The juvenile move did have its intended effect as he reared back in surprise at the unexpected poke but what she hadn't planned on was the zing of pain that shot down her fingers. Hitting the guy was like jamming her finger directly into solid concrete and _holy shit_ did it hurt. She let out a wordless shout of pain pulling her hands in to cradle them against her chest, eyes wide as she stared at him with shock."Uh." Badly said rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "sorry. Wasn't paying attention." He offered her a vapid grin."Oh bullshit!" She crowed back wagging her damaged finger at him. "You hit me in the head! Twice! And stuck your armpit all over my face! And you already apologized once, don' play stupid!""I thought you were a counter." he mused, looking down at her. She felt her face flush red at the implication, sure she was short but it wasn't like he was gigantically tall. Six feet, tops and that was being overly generous on account of the fact his stupid bald shiny head made him look kind of stupid."I got here first!" She snapped back bulldozing right into his personal bubble head tipped back to better yell right in his face indignant despite the flush on her face. "Well, you followed me." He pointed out and turned back to the deli employee who didn't even look amused at all this witty repartee, just very bored and possibly staring into a third or fourth dimension."You scared everybody out of the way what was I supposed to do not capitalize?! Theirs discount meat on the line!" She demanded poking him in his stupid rock-hard concrete chest and gesturing dramatically at the counter. "Dis-count-MEAT!" she continued voice rising in octave as she poked on every syllable break. "And do _not _think I didn't catch the fact you knew I was behind you!"He sighed noisily and turned lowering his head and staring down at her, obviously prepared to argue discount meat vendor rights with her when the roof suddenly decided to no longer remain moored to the rest of the building.They both paused and turned to look up into the grey drizzly sky argument over before it had really ever begun. The store around them had gone suddenly silent and the deli guy even looked kind of interested which going by his past behavior was kind of like saying Michelangelo's David had a tendency to make people weep."Uh." Mizuko stuttered staring into the face of a very big, very scaly, and incredibly menacing looking thing with a couple of pincers and a face that only a mother could love. "Is that a monster."It totally was."Aw fuck." She said and predictably all hell broke loose.


	2. chapter 2

Sometimes life had this really unfortunate way of being both really hilarious and breathtakingly awful at exactly the same time. One of those times happened to be right now; nothing really prepared you for staring your own death in the face when it came in the form of a giant sixty foot roided out pincer-bird monster who had just torn the entire roof of a well-sized building with a single pull.

In fact, the only good thing about this situation was that, like most monsters, the roid fish was already winding up into a truly spectacular introductory speech. Not that Mizuko was bothering to pay any attention at all to what he was saying; like any good civilian she was currently attempting to flee for her life before the monster got to the next phase of his dastardly plan (which generally was to just start murdering people indiscriminately). Pressing herself down belly first under the deli counter she started searching for an exit from the mayhem. She had a pretty good view of the ankles of the fleeing shoppers but not much in the way of line of site to the doors. It took her a few beats to realize that dumb shiny bald-headed man wasn't making any kind of attempt to get away. His feet were firmly planted in the same place they had been when she'd ducked and covered. She thought he was actually leaning forward a bit to look down into the deli case, like he was still trying to shop. She stared up at him and blinked once, twice, three times rapidly and yes, he _still_ hadn't moved.

A moment of indecision struck her; dumb shiny bald man was either the stupidest person she'd ever had the misfortune of meeting or he was high on something because he wasn't even twitching. Above them the monster was screaming something about "the sins of the fathers" but otherwise not doing much in the way of being threatening- yet. Although the fact this one was bothering to villain speech right now was something of a return to form. More and more monsters weren't doing anything before they started killing which was probably better for their villainy efforts but very bad for anyone who wanted a chance of surviving them. However- this exact moment wouldn't really be the time to look the gift horse in the mouth. If she wanted to make the modicum of effort to save baldy that would let her sleep at night she needed to get moving - _now_.

Reaching out she grabbed him by the bottom of his shorts and tugged aggressively.

"Hey!" she hissed, "Hey dumb-ass what are you _doing?!" _

"Oh, are you trying to hide?" Bald man asked bending at the waist to consider her evenly. He didn't look the least bit perturbed by all of the action going on above them or the fact she was trying to save his life. Roid-bird was awkwardly stepping over the half-decimated store wall sending bits of concrete and metal skidding everywhere. The dry goods isle was going the way of the dodo under one heavy foot-claw as they spoke. Baldy stared down at her blankly the slightest smile curving at the corner of his mouth like this whole situation was amusing in the way that watching puppy's and kittens trying to climb stairs was cute but also really funny because they fell over nine times out of ten. Man- if this guy wanted her to hate him he was doing a really good job of pissing her off right now. He looked sleepy, like he could just lie down in one of the aisles and take a healthy nap.

"Yes, I'm trying to hide!" she pointed frantically up at the monster, "Because if you haven't noticed this place is about a minute of solid ranting away from becoming a murder fest. I did not sign up for this today! I signed up for meat-based discounts! Not death!" She reached up and grabbed the hem of his shirt dragging him down closer to her level. He went easily enough bending down on one knee and ducking his head slightly with the air of someone who really was only going along with this on account of not really having anything better to do. She had just enough energy left between panicking and planning to feel a hot flash of anger at the situation, here she was trying to be a good Samaritan and make sure he didn't die and he wasn't even doing her the dignity of being remotely interested in actually attempting to live through this whole scenario.

"Well you could just leave." He said thumbing at the side of his nose and craning his head back to look up at the monster who had moved from phase one of his villain speech to phase two which seemed to be picking up and throwing shelving units haphazardly at fleeing people while laughing.

"Oh, yea I could just leave, yup." she said popping the last p as aggressively as she could while lying flat on the linoleum, "Real easy to just get away from a giant monster. What are you even doing man, are you high? Or just stupid?"

Tilting his head back down he raised an eyebrow and reached down to pull her hand away from the bottom of his shirt where she was, at this point, rather pointedly and angrily pulling in the general direction of 'down'. Never let it be said she was anything other than stubborn. He waved a dismissive hand in her direction, standing back to his full height and turning away from her tilting his head back up and rubbing the back of his neck with one broad palm. She gawped at him and darted her eyes to the side, she estimated it was only a few more seconds before this whole encounter got really deadly for everyone involved.

Baldy was- holy crap he was yawning - loudly. Even from behind with a very limited view, she could almost see the apathy rolling off him in waves. Was this guy even real? She'd seen plenty of people who thought they were the next S Class Hero in the making jump into fights with monsters; all bravado and false calm in the face of the storm but this was a whole level of weirdness. The guy wasn't even the slightest bit afraid, hell he seemed more bored than anything else. The thought flashed across her mind that he might have just - cracked down the middle, euphemistically speaking. It wasn't exactly unheard of for people to just lose it and stop caring or fighting back, rare yes but not unthinkable. Sometimes the fight just bled out of a person and they just- stopped. They both watched in silence as the monster continued tearing through the store like a hot knife through butter. The crowds were almost gone at this point everyone either dead, dying, or getting the hell out.

The moment of peace was gone almost before it began, the monster it seemed was smoothly moving into phase three also known as "murdering time" and of course the first person he caught sight of once the crowds had cleared out was baldy, probably because the jack-wagon wasn't even attempting to hide. Just standing exactly where had been when they were jostling over rib-eyes like nothing untoward was happening. Mizuko despaired, the time for scuttling out of the way without getting caught was firmly behind them. Now came the panicked running for your life section of the plan, and god this guy was just so stupid she could not even believe it. She couldn't leave him behind now, no way, he was a sucker and sure to die horribly and she was going to feel terrible about leaving him. It would be like leaving a very dumb puppy in the street- sure the puppy was supposed to be able to get itself out and sure it was independent but also it was a DUMB PUPPY. Clenching her eyes shut she desperately wished this wasn't happening for all of half a second before letting out a deep puff of air and pulling them open again. Her mind was decided- time to try to save the dumb-ass. She inched toward Baldy's feet leaving the relative safety of the deli counter's overhang behind.

_Wow, _she thought as she moved - eyes roving over the back of his body looking for a good handhold to shove him down-_ the guy is so out of it he can't even be bothered to try and get matching socks_. The left was a grungy grey sagging around his ankle which contrasted nicely with the high-topped pink/purple polka-dot pattern on the right. Mizuko lived in a slum for god's sake and even she managed to get socks that were the same general color and length (most of the time anyway). She clenched and un-clenched her hands as the roid fish started in on his next spiel. Baldly's complete lack of response to the fish's threats had apparently inspired the guy to really pump himself up. The gestures were dramatic, the prose purple, and the cape flaring abundant.

Hand's down this was the worst ever trip to the grocery store she had ever experienced; she was about to die trying to save an _idiot_. The monster began to menace forward a large shelving unit daintily clasped in its left claw. It was still talking (monologuing) but Mizuko's staccato heartbeat and the roar of adrenaline through her veins was blocking most of noise out. Her eyes tunnel-visioned on Baldy's back as she slowly wrested herself into a crouch, hoping against hope the bulk of the larger man's body would shield her until the last possible second.

The monster let out a screech hauling back with its claw and sending the shelving unit tearing through the air apparently finished with his Oscar bait moment. Mizuko let out a wavering cry and leapt from her crouch wrapping her arms around Baldy's middle, trying to bear him to the ground under her body weight and the element of surprise. Two things happened then; first Baldy stumbled a step forward off-balance from her surprise attack and then he got beamed in the side of the head by a steel shelving unit going fast enough to decapitate a rhino. Head rending speeds, as it were.

Mizuko had already kind of come to terms with the idea she was going to go splat by this point so when - instead of getting bathed in the blood of a decapitated idiot and/or dying painfully alongside him - the shelving unit snapped in half with an shriek of abused metal she was more than a bit shocked. With wide saucer-like eyes she followed the trajectory of the shelf as it sailed away and into the middle distance (presumably to land in some other horribly inconvenient place for someone else to deal with) and out of sight. Above her, the monster was doing much the same and it was in unison that they both turned back to Baldy, who was just sort of staring down at Mizuko's hands where they were clasped around the lower part of his stomach like they were a particularly nasty pair of worms.

Uh," she said very intelligently.

"What?" said the monster above them sounding very put out, "That wasn't supposed to happen."

The bald man sighed and righted himself pulling Mizuko, who still had a death grip around his middle, into a half standing position behind him. She turned her head down and pressed her forehead into the center of his back and started swearing as creatively as she knew how.

"Can you uh, let me go?" Baldy said poking at her hands with his fingers apparently no longer willing to put up with her hanging off of him like a limpet. Dropping her hands Mizuko stumbled back on jelly filled legs and slowly sunk to the floor in a daze. She began to entertain the thought that this was what the afterlife was like which was incredibly disappointing.

The monster blinked and squared its shoulders; done it seemed with this little derailment of its master plan.

It never got any farther than that because baldy lifted a hand up punched vaguely in the general direction of the monster's facial area. The monster then exploded. Violently. The back-draft whipped her braid backwards and sent most of the remaining contents of the store into a twisting aerial dance before it ended just as abruptly as it started, sending pieces of furniture and general store goods clattering (or smashing) back to the ground several feet backwards and in some cases even farther than that. The whole thing was over, in seconds, like the worlds most anti-climactic joke. Just...over. She hadn't even been able to throw an arm up to shield her eyes from the sting and grit of dust. Silence filled the ruins of the store, broken intermittently by the rush of the wind and the clattering of bits of concrete falling from the shattered walls. The store was empty now save for the two of them - the other civilians either fled or dead somewhere in the rubble.

Mizuko stared for a beat before closing her eyes and slumping forward pressing a hand against her face.

Baldy shook a bit of monster meat off from where it had landed on his shoe.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful to be alive it was just - it was just something. She started to shake a little- fine body tremors shivering up and down her spine, jaw locked shut in a grimace. Her vision was tunneling in and out leaving her with the panicked feeling she was going to hurl and pass out any second now. She ground her knuckles into the corners of her eyes and shakily smoothed a hand down her hair from the crown to the tip of her braid. She could feel herself smearing dirt down her face as she went.

Baldly turned around and raised his eyebrows like he was more than a little surprised that she was still there, not that she could blame him because if she wasn't rooted to the spot in a metaphysical sense, she probably would have already done a runner. The fact she hadn't gone flying like the store detritus was probably because she'd been mostly shielded from the back-blow by Baldy's own body.

"Do you think they would be upset if I took some steak?" he asked conversationally stepping past her and back to the deli counter.

"No." she slurred pulling her hands away from her face, "Not really, they're probably dead."

He took a moment to look back at her brows furrowed like he was confused.

"You think so?"

"Dunno, it's pretty likely." she pointed shakily to the destroyed front of the store where the office used to be (but what was now just a pile of dribbly rubble).

"Oh." he turned back to the steak and made a humming noise of dissatisfaction, "they're dusty!"

"A building did just go...poof? You know, all over" she asked trying to unsteadily gain her feet again. The only other time she'd ever felt like this in her life was the twenty-four hours following a very ill-conceived visit to a discount sushi store. Like her insides had all been scooped out through her nostrils. She was still shaking -adrenaline with nowhere to go and nothing to do with itself. She fought down a deep breath and tried to center herself, counting backwards from ten and imagining a cool ocean lake. It didn't work but at least it gave her something to focus on.

"It was more of a kapow!" he said leaning down and picking up a slab of meat which he shook halfheartedly - as if that would be enough to get the thin layer of concrete dust off the surface. Predictably the meat just flopped back and forth with no particular elegance

"Semantics." She was finally back to standing but she wasn't sure if moving was on the table yet. Her body buzzed uncomfortably and she blinked away moisture at the corner of her eyes.

Not that she was crying or anything it was more like a psychosomatic eye leak as a direct result of her adrenal glands being beaten up like rock-em sock-em robots.

She dragged a hand across her face again (probably smearing the dirt and grease even worse) and snuffed into her shirtsleeve unsteadily before tottering back to the deli unit. Baldy was jumping the counter to get at the plastic wrap having apparently given up attempting to dust the meat off in favor of packaging it up for himself.

"So." she started - white knuckling the bottom partition of the cooler to stay standing, "That happened." She felt muffled, floating.

"Oh, yea uh, sorry did you want to do something about it." He had the gall to look a little sheepish at that as he stuffed the wrapped meat into a plastic grocery bag, like he had interrupted some kind of heroic deed she'd been planning for months.

"No not really. Uh. I was just here for the-" she points wordlessly at the steak.

"Yea. Me too. Because of the -"

"Discounts." they said in unison, like this was a well-known fact of the universe and could not be disputed.

They lapsed into awkward silence. There was really no manual on the "after" for something like this.

"So are you-"

She paused narrowing her eyes testily before continuing.

"Actually, nah I don't really care." She reached into the deli section and started aggressively picking up and shoving the meat that baldy hadn't already scavenged into a spare plastic bag. He frowned over at her, or maybe it was a pout, hard to tell his face was both expressive and severe at the same time.

"My name is Saitama!" he whined almost petulantly apparently very upset she hadn't asked who he was.

She shot him a venomous glare as she twisted and tied the top of the bag off. Oh, okay _now _the emotions were starting to leak back into her brain, primarily rage. Rage was easy, anger was an old friend to fall back on in times of need.

"Don't care!" she barked pointing at him, "You ruined discount day!"

"The monster ruined discount day!" he snapped back.

"But he's gooey guts and I'm sublimating my anger about the situation onto you because you tried to fight me for my rightful meat discounts!" She gripped the edge of the counter in one hand and leaned over into his space eyes flashing.

He pushed forward just as aggressively his own meats abandoned for the time being.

"I-" She cut him off by aggressively smacking him in the face with a slab of dirty meat before he could get more than a word out and turned to begin stomping her way out of the store. She was high-stepping over rubble and not looking too hard at any of the stains or piles of meat. Best not to look too hard at _anything _post monster massacre, that way lie madness. Better to ride the shock out until the end of the line and get the hell out of dodge before you started to go from fuzzy at the edges to uncomfortable clarity. Behind her Baldy, Saitama, was sputtering and making offended sorts of noises but she wasn't paying him any mind now. She was past the altruistic part of the day; she'd done her level best to help the guy and her soft friendly feelings were 100% exhausted. He was live, she was alive, it was done with. If his feelings were delicate enough to get upset about getting smacked with a filet and walked out on, he could just _deal _with it.

Hilariously enough the sliding doors at the front of the store were still standing, albeit they were no longer actually attached to the rest of the wall. At her approach the right glass panel whirred like it was going to open and then popped right out of its track- tumbling to the ground and shattering. The left panel slid a few inches and then bounced back repeatedly. Discretion being the better part of valor she just walked around them. Glass crunching under her feet she paused at the threshold to glance back, the store was predictably empty. Saitama it seemed wasn't any more willing to stick around than she was. Not that she blamed him considering she'd just smacked him with a filet and walked out on him first.

The trek back home was going to be a pain, even more so than it already was. Dragging her feet reluctantly she began to slowly pick her way back the way she had originally come. The street around the store was, if possible, even more abandoned looking than it had been on her way in; the ruined store behind her now just another empty shattered building on a street of equally ghostly spaces. She didn't think they were going to be able to recover from this one, she'd have to find some other place to shop.

Her thoughts drifted back to Saitama as she walked. It sounded like a normal enough name for a normal enough guy but blowing up a two-story tall monster with a lazy right hook wasn't exactly, well, normal. Guys with that kind of power didn't just fall out of trees randomly, but she couldn't for the life of her imagine the guy as any kind of Hero. Not that she exactly knew a whole lot about Hero's or how they worked in the grand scheme of things. Mostly they just did their thing and ended up on the evening news for her to sarcastically clap for in the same way she liked to clap at people in sports cars who revved their engines for no reason and tried to cut people off in traffic. What she was saying is that most of them seemed like self-aggrandizing dicks, the ones she knew about anyway. Baldy wasn't exactly changing her opinion anytime soon if he _was _a hero.

She scoured her memory for the guy's name and came up blank. If he'd made the news it wasn't in any capacity she remembered. Maybe Andrew would know who the guy was, she'd have to ask when she got back home, not that it would change her general opinion but at least she would know who she was shit-posting about online later.

\--

"Oh my god what happened to you?!"

Mizuko sighed dropping her meat bag to the floor with a wet thump and slumped onto the stool, the only other place to sit that wasn't a retrofitted gurney in Andrew Yarnef's makeshift clinic. She snatched a new sucker from the cracked bowl on the sideboard as she stretched her legs out popping her left knee with a grunt, it always got a bit peaky after long walks. Andrew, a sturdy looking guy with downy blonde hair and sharp brown eyes, frowned at her from a makeshift office which occupied the back-left corner of the already cramped tent. Turning away from his makeshift plank desk, the squeaky wheel on his rolling chair protesting loudly, he took in her disheveled appearance without much amusement.

"Monster." She said unwrapping her new prize and shoving it into her mouth with the savagery of a five-year-old.

"Yes, I could have guessed that." He said narrowing his eyes at her like she was one of his petulant patients. Luckily for her Mizuko had known Andrew for years and the LOOK had ceased to work on her somewhere around puberty when he had been six feet of awkward braces and acne scars. It was hard to be intimidating when your voice cracked over every third word. "What KIND of monster and do you need medical attention?" He reached up and tried to pull the sucker out of her mouth flinching when she slapped at his wrist with a stinging retort.

"Mine!" she growled scooting her stool back and trying to ward him off with feet, knocking into his knees.

"Those are for the kids!" he barked making another go of it only to be warded off by a kick to the bottom of his chair which sent him lurching back into his desk. The towers of reclaimed books and cracked plastic cabinets with salvaged medical equipment wobbled threateningly sending him scrambling to the rescue.

"As you can see." She replied pulling the sucker out to gesture at him with it, "I'm a kid at heart."

He shot her a venomous look as he finished righting the things on his desk.

"You are vile and I hate you." He said dropping back into his chair.

"Oh, you know I'm great don't whine. Besides," she whined fake piteously, "I almost died today I deserve one!"

"You already stole one today Miu! Those are for my patients! Specifically, the ones under eighteen! You're twenty-seven!"

"More like seven am I right?!" She wiggled her eyebrows and raised her hand for a high-five which he ignored in favor of glaring. She always knew she was being effective when he broke out the nickname.

So, she high-fived herself and then flipped him off because she was a strong independent woman who don't need no man, and also, she couldn't leave herself hanging that was such an anti-bro move. He scowled some more as she grinned; Andrew was always such a stick in the mud, she thought, because his position as the slums one and only licensed (kind of) medical professional made him try extra hard to put on the appearance of competence. Riling him up was more fun than it had any right to be mostly because she was one of the few people who could get past the facade these days, a benefit of having known him for almost twenty years. It was hard to stay professional in front of a person who had once watched you fart yourself awake at a co-ed sleepover in grade school.

"So?" He said pointedly leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms dropping the sucker crusade in favor of being an adult and actually asking after her wellbeing.

"Ugh. Fine." She popped the sucker out of her mouth and carefully wrapped it back up in its wax paper before tucking it into her pocket. A year ago she would have just thrown it away, but suckers weren't as easy to get as they used to be. "I'll talk copper. Ya got me."

"I'm not sure what it was to be honest," she started, "looked like some kind of weird bird but also with lobster claws." She shrugged, "I mean monsters, right? Whatever it was it was ugly and mean but that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was who I met at the store." She leaned forward draping her arms across her thighs and clasping her hands between her knees. Andrew remained quiet as she spoke the sounds of the slum drifting in through the canvas flap that separated the clinic tent from the rest of town. One thing to appreciate about Andrew was that he was a damn good listener when he wanted to be.

"And then we got in to an argument about," she waved her hand down at the bag of meat next to her foot, "meat."

Andrew sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, a nervous tic they both shared.

"Did you really-"

"Yea." she replied leaning back in her own chair crossing her legs at the ankles "so have you ever heard of him?"

"I'm not a font of information on Hero's Miu." he responded "but no I've never heard anyone in the top tier who matches that kind of description. Not unless you ran across one of the illusive ones out of costume, which I really doubt. People like that don't go slumming around in places like this." He flaps his hand towards the exit to indicate the sprawl of the slum outside the tent door.

"Well yea. Got me on that one." She hadn't expected him to just know who the guy was but it would certainly have been nice to know more.

"He didn't look inhuman? At all? Not even a little?" He asked. Monsters, even the more human ones, generally couldn't walk around in normal society without sticking out like sore thumbs. Most, if not all, had some kind of tell; wither that was proboscis or something even more outlandish.

"No not unless you count being obscenely bald." She said patting the top of her head, "Like I'm talking wax figurine shine, like seeing your reflection fun-house style, like _could be a lighthouse near the bay _levels of light reflection."

He snorted out a laugh.

"Write a novel why don't you."

"I'd put all the smut authors out of work and you know it, this level of talent just can't be handled by the general public." She shot back throwing a few finger guns out for good measure as she gathered her things. It was almost dark and she didn't relish the thought of staying out and awake for too much longer. Sleep was a reward and she was ready to claim her daily prize.

"Well if you hear anything let me know. Just for curiosities sake if nothing else, the guy was annoying and if I'm going to spend my limited internet bandwidth smack talking him I at least want to know who I'm making fun of. If he does turn out to be some kind of hero."

"Sure thing Mizuko." He glanced down at her shoes and grinned "Oh, and by the way you have monster guts on your shoes."

"Aw goddammit, not again!"

What a waste of a good day.


	3. Chapter 3

The problem with living in a place like City Z these days, more than the lack of reliable plumbing, heating, or medical services, was the way it wrung a person out. Day after day, week after week, year after year with no end in sight. At first when things had started to get bad ten years ago, people had rallied around the idea that if they only stuck together and kept the hope, that things would turn out okay. The city ran campaigns about "togetherness", Shelter No. 7 had opened, and there had been the unshakeable belief that all of this would be a bad memory someday.

Now; a decade down the line and the only people who actually believed that were the corporate drones and neophytes who lived in the city center, the only place left mostly untouched by the devastation of repeated monster attacks. The kind of people who would look you right in the damn face and say 'it's not that bad you're just overthinking it' and actually have the unmitigated _gall _to believe it. The city liked to brag that it still had a sizeable population, the news ran stories about relief efforts and new buildings being put up constantly, but that was nine tenths a lie and one tenth wishful thinking. Truthfully, things were only getting worse.

When Mizuko's childhood home had been destroyed she'd held out hope like anyone else, run to the shelter dragging Andrew behind her as the block went down in flames. Huddled under an emergency blanket with her friend (concussed and reeling) she'd feverishly read pamphlet after pamphlet; 'what to do after a monster attack', 'government aide and you', 'how to recover after the unrecoverable'. Back then she'd thought she could win any battle, climb any mountain, overcome any hurdle. Now she had no such illusions, no real hopes, only the stubborn determination to fight against fate until it dragged her to the grave kicking and screaming. The house she grew up in had been the first but it wasn't the last. She'd never made it more than two years in a place before it wasn't habitable anymore for some reason.

When she had first moved to the tent city springing up in the old warehouse district near the river after her last apartment had been demolished she had assured Andrew 'only for a little while' and she had believed it, when the concrete wall of a shattered overpass near the entrance of the small settlement had started to be covered in posters for missing people she had just been happy it wasn't anyone she loved, and when she had been forced to light a candle at its base for Andrew's younger sister she had finally given up the little bit of hope she had. The makeshift memorial hadn't broken her, but it had broken Andrew so thoroughly and completely that even now two years later he refused to say her name or acknowledge what had happened.

The memorial hadn't been anyone's plan. Like most of its kind had simply, sprung up. One poster had become two, two had become ten, and within a month the concrete slab had been overtaken. In time it had become a fixture of the slum, sometimes quiet with reflection sometimes buzzing with energy. Placed right next to the biggest 'road' in it was impossible to miss on even a bad day, towering up four meters

Every weekend the local minister led his congregation down and sat in silent reflection. Every few days a new candle or a new poster appeared. The smell of incense and cloves never seemed to leave the area, a thick perfume that clung to hair and clothing. The ghosts of the departed reaching out with wispy hands to leave any trace behind they could. It was a constant reminder that every day more people died, more went missing, and nothing and no one seemed to be stopping it.

If you listened to the optimists the Heroes were the way this was going to be solved. More than ever they flocked to the city to try and make a name for themselves fighting the ever-increasing number of monsters that reigned nearly unchecked in many of the city districts. But the heroes were a flashy solution for a much more sinister problem. For every person saved a home was found empty with no explanation its inhabitants simply vanished. For every alien invasion halted hundreds of thousands died in the collateral fallout. The city was a dead man walking, and anyone who lived in it who wasn't blind knew it.

Andrew's clinic was in an easily accessible area of the lower basin, nearer to the center hub than hers (much nearer). It wasn't a particularly long walk to her tent but it was one she was going to make quickly while the sun was still up and hopefully before the rain clouds in the distance finally rolled in and let go. When people had realized that the hard-packed dirt 'roads' in-between the buildings and larger tents in the basin area had a tendency to flood during heavy rains they had tried to install wooden "walkways" in the more highly trafficked areas; but even those were quickly overwhelmed. So she hustled quickly away from the clinic mind set on dinner almost immediately.

Mizuko paused at the bottom of one of the dirt ramps which lead to her terrace section turning to look out over the Shantytown she now called home. The sun was just starting to set and lights were winking on here and there, in several places' fires had been started for cooking and the shrieks and cries of children echoed from around the makeshift park in the center of it all. The 'town', such as it was, was a hodgepodge of ramshackle buildings made of re-purposed materials and the thick dark green canvas tents which were sometimes used to house "displaced" people when real homes couldn't be found. The settlement was built partially into the side of a large toppled office building that had met its end at the hands of a Demon Level disaster four years ago. At first people had just built or pitched in the shadow of the building- using it to weather the large storms that sometimes swept in but over time as the settlement grew, they had expanded out and then finally up. MaraMara, one of the local teachers, had a small Talent to manipulate earth and with help and time she had managed to slowly build the earthen terraces that connected the basin to the collapsed edifice allowing the small shanty town to expand into the building itself.

Those in most need, families with children or the elderly, were the ur-inhabitants of the more secure sections of the building; living inside of sideways conference rooms and offices. The larger work floors had been divested of their cubes and turned into community areas where they could. The rest pitched their tents down in the basin or on the terraces wherever they could. The result was hodgepodge, probably a fire hazard, and certainly much louder than most people wanted but it also worked. Well- worked in the sense that nothing had burned down (yet). The jury was still out on the relative safety of the place. People were often robbed, anything expensive and pawnable had the tendency to go missing, and fights weren't unheard of. Like anywhere else the shanty was a microcosm of humanity writ large, just with more canvas tents and less all-out war.

Mizuko had moved her tent from the bottom of the basin last year to the very edge of the highest terrace, perched on a thin sliver of earth at the end of the pathway the tent was pinned in by sheer drops on two sides and a slab of concrete on the other. It was drafty, the path to the front was prone to losing chunks anytime it rained, and frankly it kind of smelled like moldy books- but that was probably just the tent itself. They hadn't really ever intended on being permanent shelters and after a few years most of them were showing their age.

Closing her eyes, she let the noises and smells of her home wash over her. It wasn't a lot but it was what she had. Turning back, she began ascending the terrace at a slow walk, nodding companionably to the people she passed. Many of the men and women moving around her were dressed in work uniforms or office-ware with a smattering of more casually dressed adults, teenagers, and children throughout. Most of the people who lived here were gainfully employed- _despite _what the local politicians liked to say. What media attention the Shanty did get was almost entirely negative; with the police and city politicians being the most vehement and vocal opponents. If you believed them the place was filled to the gills with criminals and drug addicts just waiting to spill out into the more well-maintained areas of the city. In reality most of the people who lived here just couldn't afford anything else or had grown tired of pretending their lives were ever going to go back to normal.

Government shelters were overcrowded, cruel, and predatory. They often charged exorbitant fees to remain in them after the sixty-day period guaranteed by law. By comparison the shanty-town only asked people to be sanitary and not cause trouble at home. What you did outside stayed outside and you had best keep it that way or run afoul of any one of the many people around who were spoiling for a justified fight.

Taking a right at the last plateau- skipping over a few puddles and holes - Mizuko paused for a moment to untangle the knot holding the flaps to her tent closed. She'd had a lock for a while but once she'd lost the key three of four times and been forced to cut her way in and then repair the holes, she'd just given up on maintaining the illusion of safety it gave her. She'd just decided to keep a bat next to her bed, a motion sensor alarm pointed at the flaps that was synced to her phone, and pay a fat bribe to the retired old man who lived closest to keep an eye on her stuff while she was out.

The motion sensor was a bit of a stroke of genius and she knew a few people had co-opted the idea since she'd rigged it up. All you had to do was find and cannibalize a preexisting unit (easiest to scavenge from free standing retail stores) and lash it to the top of the center tent pole - sensor pointed outwards towards the flaps. Then anytime the flap was opened and the small beam of light interrupted the chime went off. Mizuko had a department store model that played a very off brand version of a classical Brahms tune. A few people had managed to modify the song the alarm played but she'd grown used to the wonky off tune bell tones and had no desire to usurp them.

Slipping inside as the bells chimed above her, she tossed the bag of food onto her cot and her backpack next to her desk. Flipping the camping lantern, she kept hanging from the center pole on to give a little bit of light in the cramped interior she let the flap fall shut behind her. The tent itself was one of the standard olive green "refuge" tents given out by the city after major crises and she'd not really done much to change the size or layout. Some people had Frankensteined more than one tent together for more room or installed "windows" by cutting holes into the thick canvas and sewing in translucent plastic panels but Mizuko hadn't felt the need. As the light flickered on, she passed through to the back of the tent to open the rear flaps. Mindful not to lean too far out as she tied the strings off - lest she go tumbling down the sheer drop- she moved to let the last lingering light of the day in. In the distance above the nearby semi-ruined financial district some sort of bird wheeled lazily through the cloudless sky a bank of ominous grey clouds rolling in from the sea behind it.

After that it was quick work to stuff the meat she'd grabbed in one of her double stacked mini fridges (top for liquids, bottom for edibles) and get started on preparing her dinner. Her room didn't have anywhere near enough space for her to manage something grand but her desk/counter had a large enough top to set up a cutting board. A few diced vegetables a day or two riper than she'd like, chicken stock she'd begged of the Liderman's two rows down, a few cubes of meat, and some water ladled out of the basin at the foot of her bed and she had a small stew going in a pot on top of the hot plate (which was in turn on top of the mini-fridges, unsafe but efficient in a tent as small as this one).

She let the whole thing simmer as she cleaned and then settled in at her desk, the only other piece of furniture besides the cot. Other than these two fixed items the entirety of her life was carefully put away in blue plastic containers stacked up to the sloped ceiling. It rained so often and so heavily here that having anything out and unprotected that couldn't stand the damp was a gamble; and while the mini-fridges were expendable her books and clothing were not.

As the soup burbled and boiled (metaphorically not literally) she efficiently pulled her laptop out of her backpack and set up shop at the desk. It was the most valuable thing she owned, and it went everywhere with her. She couldn't risk her biggest source of income 'going missing' or her single form of non-literary entertainment. The computer wasn't old but it also wasn't new, the screen was scratched and a few pixels on the upper left corner were dead but it worked.

The internet connection out here was spotty at best and non-existent at least once or twice a week but it was still _around _which was frankly better than they could have hoped for. Sure, she spent most of her money on the wifi hotspot she was currently setting up but damn if she didn't care. Priorities. Computer now out and starting to boot up she figured she should probably get down to business, and business right now was finding out who Saitama was so she could accurately direct her current hate boner.

Opening a search engine, she banged out a few possible keywords: "Saitama" Hero City Z @chirrup.

Now some people might judge her for going straight to social media but hear her out. If no one else had anything Chirrup would, people's _dogs _had Chirrup accounts. Entire chirrup accounts only existed to re-chirrup pictures of Heros in action or try and spot them in everyday life. It was incredibly stalker-ish but, hey, in this case it might be useful. It would probably have been a little more advisable to start with a more general search and then start trolling websites like Chirrup but Mizuko had the feeling that if she did find any info on Baldy in a general web search it probably wasn't going to be all that in depth. Andrew, while not a font of hero information, was about as plugged in to the whole thing as most average citizens. If he hadn't known the name or description the guy had a pretty decent chance of being either 1) not a hero 2) Unpopular AF or 3) very new. In any of those cases the stan culture on Chirrup was 100% more likely to have information of value. It was also probably going to be like 90% thirst chirrups because well it was Chirrup and what semi-famous and/or heroic person didn't have a feed with a _weirdly _uncomfortable amount of random strangers saying 'step on me daddy' or 'RC if you think [x] would be good in bed :fire:eggplant:drool:.

Pressing enter with a quick keystroke she reached out to stir her food with her right hand and then under the desk with her left to grab a pack of chips from her 'not-so-secret secret bad for you food stash'. On the laptop screen the loading dial was still going, skipping lazily backwards and then forward. Face scrunching up in dissatisfaction she leaned back in her chair to wait. Legs up and under her butt, bag of chips snapped open. The ultimate internet surfing relaxation pose initiated.

**SAITAMA-CHAN3** @saitamaman

Are you ready for my newest video? :winkemoji:eggplantemoji:tonguemoji:peachemoji:

**F3M3N1N3MYSTIQU3** @allihargroves

@saitamaman Daddy's newest vid co-stars Genny Hale!!?!??! .Mmmmm my two favorites :eggplant:peach:tongue: Sign me up

**SomaSomaDoma** @JakeP245

@alihargroves @saitamaman

[Video insert of a fully erect penis w/censor bar: wink emoji: Follow me on Paytreon for the full video! I hope to someday be as famous for f* as my hero is! : tongue emoji:fireemoji:100emoji:

The face journey she went through in the seconds to read the series of chirupps was probably oscar worthy. Confusions, surprise, shock, intrigue, amusement, and then disappointment. So, the only Saitama on Chirrup was a professional porn actor, and judging by the fact he had a lot of hair in- she clicked his profile picture and let out an astounded whistle- yea a whoooole lot of places he was not the guy she was looking for.

Keywords: Baldy, Bald, Shiny Dome, Chrome Dome, Cue Ball, Ghost Town, Triangle Q Grocery

Keying up the next search seems to go even slower than the first time 'round. Maybe there were even more porn stars named Saitama and it was struggling to find them all. Or the guy had lied about his name. All very logical and well thought out possibilities. While it processed, she set to finishing up her dinner, flipping the burner off and reluctantly standing, abandoning her half-eaten bag of chips next to her laptop. Her first stop was the closest stack of plastic storage boxes next to the mini-fridges. She'd thrown her clean Supperware in one of these things last week and its wasn't like she's was going to eat all this soup in one night so she was going to be a good adult(tm) and put the excess away to eat later (maybe lunch, it reheated well...).

By the time she'd gotten all that sorted (soup bowl front and center, legs back up in the chair, and chips cradled in her lap like a particularly precious child) the search was mercifully done. The universe must have felt bad for her because the first link is a hole in one. The chirrup is a blurry shot of Saitama from behind walking down a street next to, she narrows her eyes and leans in, some other guy with extensive mechanical work on all of his extremities. The geotag on the picture indicates it was taken near the Triangle Q, the store she and Saitama had so recently fought inside of (only- in the background of this picture it still existed), which along with the content of the hashtags must have been what caught the chirrup in her search.

The caption read "#CBSpotting on 16th & Hesse! Looks like he's out with #DemonCyborg again!? #IWantToBelieve #Baldyborg".

Okay so wow apparently Baldy kept up with one of the hottest most sought after heros of the last five years. Even she knew who Demon Cyborg was, you'd have to be living in an actual cave cut off from all human contact to not know about him. Not only was his face constantly all over the news but a year and a half ago no one had even known he existed and now he was an S class Hero. Stuff like that just didn't happen. Until it did. One of those once in a lifetime wonders. How did someone like Saitama know someone like Demon Cyborg, and know him well enough to, what? Just hang out and go shopping?

She clicks #Baldyborg and has to take a moment to lean back and just contemplate the universe.

Saitama knows one of the most popular, powerful, and sought-after hero's because (if Chirrup can be believed) they're _dating_. Her feed is filled with picture after picture of the two men together in situations both domestic (Shopping, Walking, Riding the Bus) and possibly-romantic (out to dinner at a Thai place, huddled together under an umbrella, laughing together in front of a movie-theater). It only takes her a few more links to find Demon Cyborg's Chirrup profile, slick and professional and she'd bet run by some PR corp. It's filled with links to merch and people @'ing him for what appears to be advice on engineering projects (endearing as all hell cause the kid is apparently nineteen and likes robots). It's a treasure trove of information about Demon Cyborg -real name Genos- but under the picture is what she is really looking for:

Professional Hero @HeroAssociation

Engineering Fan (@me your robotics questions)

He/Him

Merch Available @OniiPsyBorg

Disciple of Saitama

Disciple? What did that even mean? She imagined Baldy meditating under a mountain streams and blanched, no way the guy was any kind of guru. Gurus were nice, baldy was annoying and somehow both apathetic and pretentious at the same time. Not a good look on anyone. Saitama appears to have no Chirrup profile, or not one that can be linked back to him and other than the single line mentioning him in his bio Demon Cyborg's feed has no pictures or chirrups about Saitama. Although it is unclear if that is a conscious decision on the kids' part or his PR teams. Considering Saitama's bad attitude maybe the hypothetical PR team was keeping a tight lid on any possible relationship between them, for whatever unfathomable reason.

Backtracking to the #Badlyborg tag she scrolled mechanically down the search feed. Most people were using the shipping tag #Baldyborg along with the #IWantToBelieve hashtag on pictures that had both Saitama and Genos in them. From their it isn't too hard to suss out Baldy's super name was-

"Caped...Baldy?!" she dropped her spoon with a clatter into the bow (mostly empty now) and started to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oh my god!" she groaned - grabbing herself round the middle squishing her chip bag against her chest, "Oh my god that's such a shitty hero name! No wonder," she snorted in glee, "no wonder he didn't use it!"

Oh, now this was perfect, now she just had to look him up and then she could get started on an epic Chirper chirrup storm. This was going to be emotionally satisfying on a level heretofore unseen, this was going to be frankly _amazing_. The amount of material available on the name alone, _CAPED BALDY_. Wow. He had to have pissed off someone in the HA.

The hero directory was publicly available and while the UI was awful and the search interface clunky it worked for what it was. It didn't take long for her to pull up Saitama's directory page and then she kind of had to take a pause to metaphorically ascend to troll heaven because not only was his name stupid he was also wearing some kind of kinky latex one-piece suit in the worlds least fashionable mustard yellow.

Scooting her empty soup bowl to the side she leaned forward with a positively feral grin on her face.

It was shitposting time.

\--

**Somewhere Underground – City Z**

"Again?" the voice whined from behind him, "he really did it _again!? _Why was he even their man?! Who even shops at chain supermarkets anymore?!"

Anagawa turned and raised an eyebrow at his companion.

"Lots of people." he said sedately as he began the process of turning his many coils and loops around, segmented hide rasping quietly against the rough floor of their den. "I remember I used to shop at one." He remembered the little bodega with its red counter. They had sold his favorite brand of cigarettes, menthol lights. And they had one of those machines that turned hotdogs and taquitos over and over to keep them warm. Come to think of it he might be confusing a grocery store and a gas station, but in his defense, he couldn't remember most of his life pre-coiling. Monstering? Transforming?

"Yea well I for one!" The other monster said raking a hand through the tentacles on the top of his pseudo-head, "am sick and tired of this guy! Why isn't anyone doin' anything about him? Guy just keeps fucking us all over man! They won't even listen!"

"They have a plan I guess." Anagawa hazarded slowing to a halt- finally completely turned around. His body was mostly just...heavy now. Heavy and hard to move, especially when it had been so long since he ate well. His companion, Mie, was the hyperactive murderer to his creeping eldritch horror. It was why they worked so well as a team. Mie was angry and liked to kill - Anagawa was too hard for Mie to kill and to placid to really care when Mie made the attempts. It worked, sort of. Not that they were very popular with the Monster Association these days. They'd been banished to the farthest reach of the associations control and basically told 'sit still, keep killing, don't do anything remotely intelligent'. While this notion suited Anagawa just fine Mie, who didn't particularly like listening to anyone, had only been won over by the unchecked license to murder and the posse of monsters he was promised to coordinate said murders with. Mie spent all of his time planning to kill and Anagawa just sort of existed in the same place soaking up the terror Mie produced while occasionally writing long winded reports. Boring, but livable.

Things had been fine until Caped Baldy had shown up. One day they'd been having a merry old-time sicking newbie monsters on unsuspecting townsfolk (Mie) and sunbathing (Anagawa) when Baldy had shown up, stared vacantly, and then annihilated all six of the monsters under their banner with about as much effort as small sneeze. Mie had been livid and ever since he'd been scheming up increasingly over the top ways to murder the hero. Each and every one had failed spectacularly. The evil rolly-polly bugs, the oversized toilet who was also sentient, the twin snakes, the nightmare demon, and even the deranged office worker who could phase through walls.

Mie, furious, had recently hired another freelance monster to make a last-ditch attempt. The Monster Association had a strict no outside hires policy but Mie wasn't really in the mood to care. The monster, a huge behemoth with giant claws that could rend steel and a hide not even Mie could hope to pierce had been their last-ditch effort. If anyone could kill Baldy it would be that guy.

He hadn't.

So here they were several hours later; Mie incensed and Anagawa wanting a snack.

"How many reports have ya sent 'bout him?" Mie demanded.

"Seven." Anagawa rubbed a claw down his belly and wished he had a taquito.

"And have they done anything?!" Mie was in a fine fury now.

"Told us to leave him alone?" That had been in the first reply and every single reply thereafter. The MA obviously knew Baldy existed and just weren't doing much about him at the moment. Anagawa assumed they had better more interesting people on their 'to kill' list. A guy who slummed it in Ghost Town and was a nuisance to the monsters they only let in on a technicality was, presumably, not really high up on their list of concerns. The last he had heard was that they were still focusing on the S class hero's, something about killing people's hope? He didn't really understand to be honest.

Mie was still pacing – Anagawa wondered if after a few years of that kind of thing if Mie would leave a groove in the dirt. Mie was a habitual pacer, he had said once that he saw it in a movie and the main character looked cool so now he was going to do it too. Anagawa wasn't sure how pacing was cool but also, he didn't care, it took too much effort. He titled his massive head and lost himself momentarily in a daydream about a competitive reality TV show based around pacing (how would you judge it? Do you get points for style? What about pairs pacing?) when Mie lurched to a stop. Anagawa, startled by this sudden change in momentum, stopped thinking at all and stared instead. Processing multiple things at the same time was not one of his best attributes.

Whirling around Mie slammed a closed fist savagely into his open palm.

"I got an idea!" he crowed, "oh this one is so good!"

Oh, now this was dangerous, Mie with a good idea was like gasoline on fire.

"What ab-?"

"Never mind your opinion Anagawa this one is _AMAZING." _

_"_Is it-?"

"Do you remember the girl?!" Mie interrupted eyes gleaming in the low light of the den.

"The -girl?"

"Yea yea!" Mie plowed on, "The pretty one with the long hair and the backpack!"

Anagawa considered that statement raising a finger to his lips and thinking back to the video which Mie had insisted they watch on repeat for the last few hours. Come to think of it Anagawa did remember a pretty dark-haired girl who'd-

"She hugged him?" Anagawa said triumphant to have remembered such a small detail.

"Yea, yea yes! And he saved her life! Without even flinching in the face of danger! They were so passionate! She stuck to his side the moment she saw him! She must be his girlfriend! Only girlfriends argue like that!" Mie seemed positively glowing with this pronouncement.

Anagawa thought maybe he should remind Mie that Caped Baldy was probably dating Demon Cyborg if the office watercooler gossip could be trusted and that they had no idea what the girl and Caped Baldy had been talking about. The drone they had used was a knockoff brand from Teibo and cost less than a good chalupa meal. It wasn't even equipped to pick up audio much less broadcast in high enough fidelity to read a relationship into the fight.

"Uh I don't-"

"So, what we're going to do!", Mie pronounced back to his pacing again but looking gleeful this time, "Is we're gonna get to him through her!" He turned and threw his arms out as if the presentation of this plan was a fun surprise. He waited a beat staring expectantly at Anagawa who after a moment brought his claws together in a quiet _tap tap tap _of applause. Mie pleased by this brilliant plan swept into a bow and then curtsey.

"I know I know. I'm amazing."

"Well uh," Anagawa said, "I still don't know if this is a good plan we don't really know if they, uh, like each other."

"Fool! Simpleton!" Uh oh Mie was winding up. "You unmitigated nincompoop!" Oh, yea there was the flash of the blade he'd been waiting for. "My plan is UNSTOPPABLE! FENDISH! AWE INSPIRING!!!"

"Yea." Anagawa said as Mie launched himself into a feverish attack on one of his coils. It didn't even pinch and it made Mie feel better so Anagawa just let him wear himself out as he ranted. "Yea sure thing Mie, it's uh...a great plan. Uh but just... what is the plan? Shouldn't we talk about it."

Mie's eyes flashed.

"Gonna' do some kidnappin' and torture Anagawa! Old school style!"

"Oh sure." Anagawa supplied, "Whatever you say Mie."


	4. Chapter 4

The rain was deafening. The percussive sounds of water filled the canvas tent with a kind of eerie stillness, as if the world outside had simply ceased to be between the rolling thunder and cacophonous noise of a rain storm gone weeks overdue. Mizuko had fallen asleep as the first pitter patter of rain had swept in over the hill, her internet crusade shelved for the night. In the end she'd only gotten around to a few Chirruper posts defaming Caped Baldy and one scathing review on (H)elp a sort of anonymous reviewing sight for civilian/hero interactions. She hadn't been surprised to see that out of a possible ten stars Baldy had an aggregate score of a two-point-five. A ton of the reviews claimed he was a "glory hunter" or something similar and more than a few chose to directly reference a large-scale battle that had occurred between Deep Sea King and several heroes last year; that single incident had bombed his score beyond recognition within the first few months of his formal entry into the system. Honestly that was kind of amazing, she hadn't even known people's scores could drop that fast! She really had to wonder why someone like Demon Cyborg was bothering with a guy like Saitama, but then she could understand being in dating a useless jerk. She had done that before, memorably and on several occasions. It was probably some sort of weird sex thing, it always seemed to be some kind of weird sex thing. Always.

The darkness inside the tent was nearly complete, cut through only by a sliver of ambient light from the open flap at the back of the tent. Most nights Mizuko would have shut it before she went to bed, but with the heavy oppressive heat not dissipating until late into the night lately and the damp heavy humidity of the thunderstorm she had felt it was probably in her best interest to let in what little cool air there was to be had inside. In the end it had only alleviated the heat by a half measure. She had started under a thin blanket but within a few hours had migrated into a loose-limbed sprawl across her bed leaving it rucked up against the footboard. Thunder rumbled overhead as she tossed this way and that - clumsy hands pushing her sweat matted hair away from her face with every uneasy rotation. Nothing seemed comfortable tonight; not the bed, not the weather, not even her dreams.

In a better kinder world those nightmares would have kept her awake or given her some prophetic dream warning; but in this world they only made her groggy and slow to react. It started by dragging her out of bed cracking her skull against the packed dirt floor in one smooth pull. The shock of it tore her out of sleep with viciousness. Her first through was that there had been a landslide to toss her around like this, they weren't uncommon but one of this size (big enough to pull her bed down? To throw her to the ground? It was so hard to parse what was happening in the moment-) would be devastating. Unfortunately for Mizuko this wasn't a natural disaster at play, it would have been better for her if it had been. No this was something worse.

Time seemed to stretch out in the next few seconds, softly out of focus and then dialing in to photo-realistic horrific realization. Her left ankle felt hot, almost uncomfortably so. She was on the floor when she shouldn't be. Her head hurt and it's shouldn't. She was awake, and she wasn't supposed to be.

The room was silent, thunder rumbling overhead. She struggled to string a thought together as she blinked her eyes open against a sudden rush of tears, should she be screaming right now? Isn't that what you did in times like this? Belatedly she made the attempt choking back tears, working her throat and mouth convulsively. Her mouth moved, her chest stretched, her throat tightened but nothing happened, her mouth wrapping around silent vowels. The terror was absolute and immediate, she couldn't scream. She COULDN'T SCREAM. Air hissed silently between her teeth as she bucked with the harsh realization; it wasn't that she wasn't screaming it was that there was no sound. Everything around her was freakishly, hellishly, deadly silent. A talent?! She thought dizzily though she had no time to further contemplate the thought. The light sheet she had gone to bed with tangled around her legs as she made an abortive attempt to sit, confused and disoriented pupils blown wide as she searched the oppressive darkness for any clue as to what was going on.

Something was in the room with her, something was attacking her. A large heavy vicelike grip was all she could feel, something lifting her up up up by the ankle until her knee gave a bright hot flare of pain as the full weight of her body jerked to a halt. In the darkness above, the roof of the tent distended and undulated, the canvas warping and moving as if being displaced by a something unseen. Terror leapt through her, her skin going clammy cold as if all of the water inside of her had suddenly been wrung out in the space of a blink. Heart thundering, she groped upwards as the thing began to move towards the back of the tent.

Pain howled down her leg as she managed bend upwards and clamp her fingers around what felt like a brawny arm. Desperation made her hands into claws- fingernails raking frantically in an attempt to inflict any amount of pain on her attacker. The thing flinched and the band around her ankle released dropping her heavily onto the dirt floor, it had not apparently expected her to fight back with such a sudden viciousness (that thought sent a spike of heady elation down her spine she would think about later). The smooth slick feeling of blood between her fingers startled her, it was still warm. Dazed and unable to celebrate her small victory for even a moment she was unable to avoid the next blow, invisible as it was. It drove all the air from her abdomen and all thoughts from her mind. The world simply, stopped, or so it seemed. Her body lurched backwards with the force of it. She hit the leg of her desk with an utterly silent crash, the cheap folding table crumpled over her, unable to support its own weight with one leg struck down.

By all rights the tent should have been filled with the sounds of struggle but it remained as eerily quiet as it had been when Mizuko fell asleep. Whatever the monster was doing was keeping any noise from being generated in the struggle down to the repetitive but soothing noise of her ancient laptop's cooling fan which droned incessantly despite any and all attempts to fix it. A blanket of terrifying silence, one she was increasingly sure she might never be meant to leave. She had no time to recover before she was being jerked out from under the collapsed table into the middle of the small room. Her ribs were maybe broken now, her knee was on fire. What was happening? Why was it happening? Her body jerked as the thing fisted a hand in the bottom of her pajama pants and began dragging her towards the back of the tent. Her thoughts, hazy and covered with the film of fear, raced even as she flung her hands out to try and scrabble for purchase on the hard-packed floor. Once she went over the edge what little chance she had left would be gone, even she could tell that much. Her free leg lashed out and caught the tower of plastic boxes which swayed but didn't fall down, too heavily filled with all of the cumulative crap that made up her life.

The back flaps of the tent rustled and parted even father. Oh god it was going to throw her down the cliff face. She was going to die; she was going to die. She twisted aggressively mouth gaping in a silent scream as her knee buckled to dig her hands into the floor. If she could only stop it for a moment, break away and run outside. Someone would see even if they couldn't hear.

The thing did not stop, did not stumble, frankly it didn't seem to notice she was doing anything at all. She slid inexorably towards the edge fingers catching and pulling on the dirt leaving jagged runs in behind her. The first fingernail ripped away from the index finger on her right hand, then two from the left. Her legs breached the edge leaving her, for one frantic second of panic, suspended in the cold air, and then she plunged over the edge - leaving nothing behind but a few fingernails, a disheveled room, and a small smattering of blood.

The kidnapping would have been infinitely more comfortable if she had been able to play it off like a very bad dream, if maybe she had been drugged or beaten into unconsciousness the way she felt she probably should have been. Unfortunately, as with many things in her life this particular bit didn't go her way from the beginning, so the middle bits were just as bad as the beginning ones.

Whatever had snatched her was in no way gentlemanly about removing her from the slum. By scaling the cliff wall that comprised one of the sides of the encampment it had been able to completely bypass the few security measures both Mizuko and the slum dwellers in general had set up. An oversight really; but no one had thought that climbing a sheer rock face made up of rubble would be anyone's first, second, or even third choice to get into a relatively unprotected section of town.

If Muzuko had been in a better state of mind she might have wondered what exactly had prompted the situation she found herself in. Although she was by no means the most popular person in town, she also was neither famous nor infamous. Despite the sharp population decline over the last decade City Z was still ranked in as one of the top ten most populated Urban Centers in the district. With over three million registered citizens and somewhere between a half a million or a million undocumented. The odds of Mizuko Watanabe being kidnapped in the dead of night by an unknown assailant were so low as to be laughable. And yet, here we all are. D

The rain continued unabated as the, monster presumably, dropped heavily onto the ground at the bottom of the cliff. Mizuko, incensed and in tremendous pain but still very much awake, was unceremoniously dumped out onto the ground and then folded into a heavy went blanket that smelled overwhelmingly of animal, wet animal. They kidnapper seemed to have left it in a heap at the bottom when he started climbing and it had been raining nonstop for hours. It was an honest concern she might die of drowning rather than suffocation. The drop to the ground had left her briefly stunned and unable to do more than roll onto her stomach and stretch her arms out before she was bundled back up again. Mizuko had to applaud whoever was planning this out, although the outcome was less than favorable for her they were moving along swimmingly. Nothing about a silently screaming wreck of a woman floating in midair screamed "willing" or "appropriate", but a smelly silent blanket presumably being carried by a no longer invisible something was probably just vaguely unusual.

Time seemed elusive within the tight roll of the blanket, with no way to orient herself or tell how long they had been walking. The panic attack was not unexpected but when it hit it was overwhelming. Breathing felt impossible, her arms twisted down tight against her torso, each lungful dragged in with the tang of mold, a little too short and unfulfilling to clear her head. She felt her face heat the anxiety buzzing beneath her skin, sandpaper on open nerves. She opened her eyes only to squeeze them shut again them against the blank darkness. Her breaths went from deep nasal pulls to open mouth panting; saliva pooling at the corners of her mouth. Fear drooling, she'd never wanted to add that to her list of experiences but here she was, fear drooling and hoping in a very distant corner of her mind that she didn't piss herself. If she managed anything else tonight, she sincerely hoped she could keep from peeing all over herself. She wanted at least a little dignity left, just a little please. She was losing moments, shocks of fear pulling her mind off the tracks and sending it tumbling. It would be a joke to say it felt like an eternity (it felt more like a lifetime). Never in all her years had she felt more hopeless, more alone, or more terrified.

The walking was steady and even, whatever was carrying her was having little to no issue carting her around. The sensation of movement seesawed occasionally up and then down again, with long almost motionless moments stretched between them. Mizuko lie limp inside of her cage, unashamed of the tears dripping down her face. This felt like death, this long walk. Or maybe it was a descent into the underworld, if you wanted to get J. S. Campbell on the situation as a way of making this more palatable. After all in the hero's journey generally you got out of the underworld alive-ish (you know if you weren't a subversion of the trope in which case gg no re).

The second drop, when it came, filled her with a rush of heady relief even as her body snapped smart reports of pain at the rough treatment. Finally, it was over. Well this part of it anyway. Considering the way things were going right now Mizuko wasn't holding out too much hope that things would get better. Managing Expectations, that's what she would call it. Managing. Expectations. The damp carpet around her lurched suddenly sending her tumbling side over side until the fabric completely unrolled leaving her shivering and witless on a dirt floor.

"Oh, good job buddy!" a voice cried with delight, "got her real fast!" Mizuko shivered and tried to roll onto her stomach. Her limbs jerked and spasmed painfully, her left hand hurt, her knee was wretched.  
"I want my bonus." A smooth voice interrupted, "I got her in under twelve hours and no one saw me. I do good work, I do it quick, now don't make me wait." Mizuko tried not to look, she really did, but the thing that had taken her wasn't exactly hard to miss and with none of her limbs co-operating she couldn't even think of getting away. The thing, the person once upon a time, was huge easily standing over seven feet tall with pearlescent skin a shade or so darker than heather grey. Its body was humanoid in proportion (two arms, two legs) deviating most severely around its head where a huge wolf like skull leered and at the legs; digitigrade with huge paw-shaped feet. She could imagine being able to be both invisible and preternaturally silent suited it, nothing that looked like that would be walking around in the light of day without a Hero license pinned to their chest

"Yea yea buddy she's alive too which is a real winner." The first voice continued at the wolf-monster settled back on their haunches, "We was kinda worried with your reputation we'd get back a gnawed chew toy n'not a livin' person. So good job! Now get out and you'll get ya money at the door. Scram!"

She shook her head side to side as she tried to regain her wits, she might have imagined it but she thought the wolf-monster shot her a sympathetic look as it rose and collected the rug they had transported her with. Or it was constipated. It was probably a shitty idea to read emotions into an anthropomorphic wolf man face, it only ever showed you what you wanted to see.

"Ah ah ah Anagawa." The first voice crowed as the wolf monster quit the room, presumably leaving the same way he had brought her inside. "Anagawa look who we have here." Mizuko turned her head and shuddered as her new captor slunk into the light. The monster, not Anagawa but the one calling for them, was lanky and loose limbed - small where the wolf man had been huge. Although relative size was hard to guess when lying flat on your back Mizuko would have hazarded that standing tall the monster would be of a relatively even height to her. Five or maybe five and a half feet tall on the outer stretch, with the last few inches comprised of the snacking pile of tentacles the monster had piled atop his head much the way a human might style their hair.

"Well little lady." The monster said ambling up to her and crouching down over her, "isn't this going to be fun."

He leered and Mizuko wanted to vomit. The monster's teeth were sharp and yellowed with age or decay, the mass of tentacles on his head swayed back and forth in the low light almost hypnotically. This close she could see tiny gaping mouths at the end of each follicle, angry little things filled with rows of tiny needlelike teeth to match the monster's smile. The less that was said about his breath, the better for both reader and character alike- it was, not good.

"I am Mie." the monster said with a quixotic little half bow over her prone form, and then paused as if waiting for her to say something. They started at each other for a few breaths in silence before Mie rocked back on his heels. He was by far one of the most human-like monsters she'd seen yet. If it wasn't for the sickly pallor of his skin (almost translucent even in the muddy overhead light) and the tentacles that had replaced his hair he looked nearly like anyone else. If his fingertips ended in knifelike claws and his breath reeked of blood well those were things he could cover up (probably).

"Anagawa!" Mie snapped looking over her prone body to somewhere in the distance behind her. "Today please, prisoners don't just torture themselves don't you know!"

Mizuko felt tears trickle down the corners of her eyes.

"Why?" she managed to croak. "Why?"

A shadow loomed from her right side huge and undefinable the slither hiss of scale against earth. She sucked in huge gulping breaths turning her face away and into the hardpacked dirt at her cheek as if by refusing to look she could refuse the thing in the corner's right to manifest itself. Mie was wearing sandals, his toes looked normal. Why did his toes look normal? She felt her heart seize and turn, as a smothering veil of fear settled over her. Mie grinned down at her reaching out a to touch the sharp edge of a claw against the corner of her eye socket, a tiny pinprick of pain against the otherworldly onslaught of fear that was settling deep in her gut.

"Saitama." Mie said as something smooth and scaled brushed against the back of her shin. She shuddered out a heaving breath, "You're here because of Saitama. So, why don't you tell us all about him, hm?"

Psychological torture, Anagawa had always thought, was probably way harder to pull off than run of the mill physical torture. You had to do a lot more planning for one and also it just took a really long time. Like a really long time.

Like right now for example; they had girl-snatched Saitama's woman ages ago and he'd been locked in this room with her for days and all she'd done is cry and throw up. Well and have a few small seizures, he'd had to stuff a bit of shirt into her mouth to keep her from biting her own tongue off after the first one. That had taken some doing, she'd clamped her jaw shut like a vice a few hours in and refused to open up unless he physically pried them open which was very disgusting. He wondered if he'd produced that much sticky mouth juice when he was still human. He really hoped not.

Honestly, he wasn't really a fan of torturing people, but hey it was what he was good at. Anagawa could have been someone really great if he had wanted to. The Monster Association had once had very high hopes for him when he had first been 'found'. Anagawa, you see, had a Talent for driving people insane simply by being in the same room as them. He was a little medusa and a lot walking Lovecraftian horror; the hope had been that he would prove to be the associations premier torturer. Humans were particularly susceptible often suffering hallucinations and full body paroxysms within minutes of being placed within eyesight of the monster; his mere presence carried a metaphysical malaise with him that incited depression and anxiety in those nearby. The MA had been ecstatic about his very existence right up until they had realized that Anagawa lacked the one requirement for anyone hoping to get ahead in life; any sense of ambition or interest in what he was doing.

Whatever had prompted Anagawa to mutate into a monster, and stripped most of his human memories away in the process, had also made him incredibly lazy and easily susceptible to boredom. The first time he had tried to torture someone for his new bosses he had given up fifteen minutes in because he was 'honestly just really bored'. The second time he had gotten really wrapped up in asking them about their opinion on the newest Game of Homes episode from the night before (He though Lord Taris was going to be the Divine King but was open to alternative theories if the evidence made sense) and completely missed the guy dying of a heart attack for three hours he was so intent on theory crafting the next season. They had labeled him mostly useless for actual interrogation after than one and within a few weeks he had been assigned Mie as a handler and been shunted off to an area where he was easily accessible if you needed him to terrorize someone into incontinence simply by existing- while also not getting in the way of anyone who actually mattered.

Anagawa was content with the setup. Mie, while demanding and insane, was also completely harmless to Anagawa on the grander scale. Mie had plans, Anagawa tried to help where he could, they failed, and a new gaggle of monsters no one cared about died. It was a cycle as regular as the seasons and around as interesting. Really, he was just grateful it didn't interrupt his prime-time television binging.

Angawa crunched on another handful of Meerios(tm) as he stared unblinkingly down at the girl's body (His eyelids were optional! It was fun!). She was wedged into the right-most corner of the cell today face turned into the wall. Intermittent shivers chattered up and down her body but she remained eerily silent. The screaming had ended a few hours before this and he had to hand it to her that she'd intuitively figured out that not having a line of sight to him made the hallucinations a little more bearable. He'd never spent too much time experimenting with his Talent, it was too much effort in his opinion, but he knew that direct eye contact was probably the most powerful and effective way of using his abilities; but since his simple presence alone was generally effective enough, he wasn't too concerned.

What was concerning him was that Mie had disappeared somewhere, again. This whole torture thing wasn't going to work if Mie wasn't here to ask any questions. Anagawa was not the question guy, he was the torture guy. The whole point of this thing had been to get answers out of her about Caped Baldy and she wasn't talking in general. Mie had given some really insane speech filled with ranting and threats of violence but by the time he actually got around to asking anything specific she was already deep in the hallucinations, unable to do much other than scream. Anagawa had assumed Mie would tell him to leave eventually so she could recover some of her wits and then interrogate her, but the other monster had stomped off some time ago and just never returned.

In the corner the girl jerked and shivered as Anagawa crunched away on his remaining Meerios. He was dismally low on snacks and rapidly losing interest in the situation. If Mie wasn't back soon, he was just going to give up and go back to watching Golden Fries re-runs on channel seven.

Mizuko wished, very fervently, that she was dead.

If time had been like water slipping through her cupped hands the night she had been taken now it was basically non-existent. Something deep within her had been wounded, something she wasn't sure she was ever going to be able to recover.

Probably my sanity She thought to herself with amusement, gently tapping her forehead against the wall Yea for sure my sanity. The wall was at least probably real, she'd determined that early on. The wall and the floor were probably real, and the thing in the corner that SHE WAS NOT LOOKING AT was also real, very real. The thing in the corner didn't generally make much noise, but it didn't need to. The wall had been her friend for a while, she hit her head against it sometimes like this. The gentle tap through her skull was a small reminder her physical body existed (probably!) somewhere outside of what was happening to her. She reached a hand towards her face (snotty, gross, red-eyed, maybe also not real!) and swiped at the mess there, her nose had stopped running in the last few minutes, that was new.

She brought her hand away from her face rubbing her index and forefingers together squishing blood and snot together between them like a nasty stress ball. She snickered and shook her fingers off, wiping them against the dirt floor. What a gross thing to do, she warbled out a chuckle. She wondered if the CORNER THING would react this time, it always seemed to get weirded out when she had a bodily function. Once she thinks it maybe sympathy vomited when she started pissing herself the first time, which had been a real breaking point for her psyche (re: how much humiliation she could take before she just gave up caring about it. Man, wasn't it just hilarious when she begged NOT to pee herself, HAH! The gall, the unmitigated GALL she had, like she would have a choice). Honestly it was hard to tell anything in-between the THING WE DON'T THINK ABOUT and THE OTHER THINGS WE ARE ALSO NOT THINKING ABOUT. Again, she and Time were kind of broken up right now and like most ex-girlfriends Time was not giving her any feedback about what was going on. She could have peed herself six years ago or six minutes ago for all she knew. It was kind of pointless to worry anyway, it didn't really matter. She pressed her face back into the corner of the wall and waited. Cool air whispered through the crack under the door and she fidgeted, shifting from one knee to the other; it was probably only out to get more food.

Nothing was happening.

Now in the grand scheme of things nothing happening was really not that big of a deal. Things didn't happen literally all the time. What was unusual about this 'nothing happening' situation is that it was currently happening to her. Her who had just spent an indeterminate amount of time having things very much happening to her.

The cell was as quiet as a whisper.

She considered her options for a moment. If this was a trick it was a new and inventive one. Wither it was or not wasn't the real question, the question really was 'would she be willing to fall for this one if it was a trap'. Things came and went in waves, they got intense and then waxed back down but they never actually stopped.

She remained crouched for another eon, ears alert for any slither or scrape of scales behind her. She wasn't sure how long she waited, hard to tell with no light or sense of time, before the courage came back to her in a rush. Suddenly her mind was made up, like a conclusion had already been waiting for her to screw up the courage to take it up, and she was ready to fall for whatever trick the monsters were pulling. Better to know than to wait, if it was a trick it wouldn't matter either way and if it wasn't? If It wasn't-

Reaching out she placed her hands palms flat against the wall and slowly began to stand. Her legs felt weak and ill-used (which they were) and her head swam alarmingly. It was laborious, standing, but with the wall to support her weight she managed to gain her feet again. Her knee hurt.

She looked down and had to steady herself against the wall as her leg refused to hold the full weight of her body. The small room wasn't really lit per say, motes of light drifted in from the cracks under and above the cell door, but it was bright enough for her to see the mess that was her lower body. She was covered in – her though process screeched to a halt and she just took a moment to breath herself through the frayed edge of the panic attack her body was valiantly attempting to have. It might as well not have tried; she didn't have enough adrenaline left to really get a good one going. To say she felt ridden hard and put up wet would be inaccurate only in that the phrase was generally used for after a good dicking, and while she did feel fucked, she didn't feel FUCKED (you know).

Her knee was a nearly blue black color, distended and hot to the touch but a few timid attempts to settle her weight on it proved that while it was unsteady and absolutely a bad idea to walk on it, it still worked. She let out a gusty sigh and leaned into the wall, smooshing her face against the cool hardpacked dirt.

Now or never.

She didn't give herself time to think it over.

She turned on the ball of her good foot and swayed vision graying around the edges, moving too quickly wasn't such a great idea apparently.

The room was empty.

Her eyes darted to the door and back into the corner where THE THING had always been.

Nothing looked back at her.

She eyed the door again.

Nothing happened

"What?" she croaked aloud, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. "What the hell..."


End file.
